


Bleed Like an Idiot

by Augment



Category: One Piece
Genre: Blood, Blood Symbolism, Hurt/Comfort, I have a problem, M/M, Mild Gore, Mild torture, Miscommunication, Undying Devotion, Unimportant Plot-Device OCs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-16 21:09:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11837115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Augment/pseuds/Augment
Summary: Not that Luffy wouldn’t die for each and every one of his crew, and he knows, though he will make sure it nevereverhappens, that they would die for him. But to supersede Zoro’s dream like this, that makes Luffy feel so hideously guilty it locks up his lungs, and his jaw, and he can’t speak, touch Zoro, anything.





	Bleed Like an Idiot

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [lion-skinned](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5991505) by [kurgaya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurgaya/pseuds/kurgaya). 



> Canon is rather ad hoc regarding the effects of water on devil fruit users, so I’m going to simplify it a bit here. For the sake of this fic, fresh water (in any amount) is fine for devil fruit users, while salt/sea water is not and causes anything from weakness to paralysis depending on how much water the person is exposed to; or example, sea spray has a negligible effect, while wearing salt water soaked clothes would cause weakness and inhibit the devil fruit ability but not paralyse.
> 
> Everything else about devil fruits I just straight up made up.

A shaft of light illuminates the room as the door is, carefully and slowly, opened.

“Princess?” calls a tentative voice.

“I will not secede.”

“Oh, good?” Usopp says, confused. Then he calls out behind him: “I found her!”

“I punched the spider,” Luffy declares, appearing out of nowhere and pushing Usopp aside. “And Henry.”

From somewhere behind the Captain comes the faint objection of, “That’s not his _name_.”

Luffy’s eyes partially adjust to the darkness. The Princess, lit by the light from the doorway, just stares at him in a stupor.

“Where’s Zoro?” Luffy asks.

Wordlessly the Princess indicates, as best she can with both arms strapped to her chair, the dark lump opposite her.

“Zoro?” Luffy reaches out to what he can now see is a vaguely humanoid shape, likewise bound to its chair.

“Don’t touch him!” the Princess shrieks.

Luffy’s hand jerks back.

“What’s wrong?” Usopp asks from the doorway.

“Chopper!” Luffy’s urgent voice rings out, loud enough to reach halfway across the building.

The Princess flinches. Usopp is once again pushed aside, this time by their doctor, who hurtles into the room and then stops abruptly when he realises he can’t see a thing.

Chopper’s reindeer senses adapt to the darkness much quicker than Luffy’s, and he soon realises his patient is not the Princess, but Zoro.

“Oh god, no, be careful, be careful,” the Princess sobs, straining against the ropes holding her to the chair. Usopp steps forward to see if he can release her.

“It’s okay,” Luffy says, his eyes fixed on the inert and slumped shape of his first mate. “Chopper is the best doctor in the world.”

Chopper doesn’t even react to the praise. “Luffy,” he whispers, his hoof frozen in the air half a metre away from Zoro. “Luffy, that’s _seastone_.”

Luffy takes an unconscious step backward. Fear worms under his ribcage.

“Get Sanji,” Luffy says to Usopp urgently.

Usopp releases the last of the ropes holding the Princess, and tries to guide her out the room. She beats at his hands, twists away, goes over to Zoro but then can’t seem to bring herself to touch him.

“ _Sanji_ ,” Luffy repeats insistently.

Usopp nods, and bolts.

“What happened?” Luffy demands.

“I wouldn’t agree,” the Princess says. “I couldn’t- he- oh god. He said it was fine. The sound- and- you would come, he said, I couldn’t, for the sake of my people-”

Usopp comes back, panting, with Sanji and a lantern.

The light from the lantern shows the cell for what it is. A small room, with no windows, and two chairs facing one another.

Zoro is unconscious, head lolling back. The only thing keeping him on his chair are the chains wrapped around his torso, and the manacles at his wrists and ankles, pinning him to the chair’s arms and legs. There are dark brown patches on the floor which are definitely blood; it’s also streaked on the wood of the chair and the chains and Zoro’s clothes and skin and hair.

“He’s dead, oh god, he’s dead, he was wrong, you were too late, I should have signed it, oh god,” the Princess babbles.

Luffy shoves her away from Zoro and into Usopp. This time she doesn’t resist as Usopp leads her out of the room, her chest constricting as she alternates between sobbing and dry heaving.

“Shit,” Sanji curses softly. “Marimo?”

“He’s still breathing,” Chopper says urgently, wanting to help but unable to get any closer to Zoro. “The chains are seastone, Sanji – you need to break them.”

Sanji nods grimly. Both Luffy and Chopper back up as Sanji paces around Zoro, looking for a way to remove the chains without hurting him.

The cook lifts his leg, then brings his heel down hard on one of the chains around Zoro’s ankles. The chain shatters, flinging fragments everywhere. Luffy ducks, and Chopper backs up as far as the door.

“Luffy, we should stand outside,” Chopper says.

Sanji smashes the other ankle chain, and a link bounces off Luffy’s forehead. The seastone staggers the rubberman, but he stubbornly doesn’t move, eyes fixed on Zoro.

“Fuck,” Sanji says, shaking his leg. “The angle is too awkward, and this room is too small. I’m not going to be able to do the rest without hurting him.”

“Get them _off_ him,” Luffy hisses.

“Franky might be able to do it,” Chopper volunteers from the doorway. “We need some way to get Zoro out of here first, though. He’s too big to fit through the door like that-“

Chopper barely has time to get out of the way before Luffy winds back his arm and, with a clenched fist filled with so much power that it has steam coming off it, punches a gaping hole through the wall next to the door.

 

* * *

 

Zoro managed to fight past the fuzziness in time to register the slam of the prison door, and the sharp receding footsteps of their gaoler.

The room was cold, and dark. It was, of course, also damp.

Zoro slumped down further into the uncomfortable wooden chair he was chained to. Across from him, tied to her chair with rope rather than chains, sat a copper-haired girl in a torn green dress. She was completely unharmed. Her face was angst-ridden, tear-stained, and her broken, gasping sobs were the only sound in the room.

“I’m fine,” Zoro said thickly, tasting blood, his tongue swollen in his mouth.

His attempt at reassurance didn’t work. The girl continued to cry for ten more minutes. Eventually she calmed down, hiccupping occasionally.

“Luffy will find us,” Zoro tried again.

“But-,” the girl said, biting her lip and trying not to start crying again.

“Luffy will find us,” Zoro repeated.

“But soon?” the girl demanded, wide eyes now on Zoro fully, searching, willing him to lift his head and meet her eyes. “He’s hurting you-“

“I’ve had worse,” Zoro interrupted.

“He will kill you!” the girl burst out. “And slowly! And make me watch! If I just, if I say yes, then maybe…”

Zoro lifted his head, and met the girl’s pleading stare. He couldn’t really make out her face very well – his remaining eye partially gummed up with dried blood – but he tried to put as much ferocity into his gaze as possible.

“There’s no bargaining with a man like that.” Zoro said, voice rasping. “Make your decision, Princess.”

“I can’t ask you to-“

“Luffy already said yes.”

Silence, for several minutes.

“I will not secede,” the Princess said quietly to the floor, the same thing she had been saying for the past several hours.

In retrospect, Zoro probably should have planned for this at some point. Luffy had a habit of befriending royalty in distress, and they were about due another princess.

This Princess was the leader of an alliance of tiny islands that stood smack bang in the middle of the most lucrative sea-mining area in the New World. If, as asshole-of-the-day wanted her to, the Princess agreed to secede from the alliance, then the mining area would become a free-for-all. Several pirates were looking to set up shop, as was the government. These would be the least objectionable options.

Instead, the Princess had gotten herself (and Zoro) captured by a man at the head of an organisation that managed to combine the worst bits of Baroque Works and CP9, and that so far was making Crocodile’s attempted coup look like a mildly upset letter to Parliament. His name was Harrow. Luffy had so far referred to him as Hal, Harry, and Harold, each time pissing the man off what seemed like a disproportionate amount and thereby making Zoro snort with laughter.

He wasn’t laughing now.

The Princess’ refusal to secede was the only thing preventing the enslavement (and probably early death) of hundreds of people. Of course Harrow wasn’t above taking things by force – this was were Luffy, and the rest of the Straw Hats, had come in. Defeat the villain, save the princess, receive the people’s fame and ovation for ever and – more importantly – get passage through the Princess’ country.

Except there was a guy with a spider devil fruit (fucking Zoan, Usopp had screamed _so loud_ ), and a literal spider’s web, and a whole bunch of the crew had been cocooned and Luffy and poor, trembling Usopp had managed to get _some_ of them out-

Not Zoro and the Princess though.

Zoro suspected this was partially on purpose. Because Luffy had flung out an arm for the girl, and missed, and then he’d yelled at Zoro, “Keep her safe!”, which, okay, sure, no problem, Captain’s orders.

Zoro had _assumed_ this wouldn’t take long. Luffy would take care of Harrow. Zoro’d find his swords – somewhere in the sticky, restricting web – cut the damn arachnid into multiple pieces, meet Luffy on the way out, _boom_.

Country saved. Princess pathetically grateful. More royalty for Luffy’s collection.

Problem was, was that Zoro was kind of fucked when Harrow materialised out of nowhere, somehow _not_ punched into oblivion, holding a knife to the Princess’ throat and forcing Zoro to down weapons.

Zoro hoped everybody else was alright, though it was kind of impossible that they weren’t, because Luffy was with them.

“I’m so sorry,” the Princess whispered into the darkness.

Zoro shrugged as much as he was able, then immediately regretted it as a headache ripped through him at migraine intensity. In truth he didn’t give a shit about doing this for the Princess, or for her people.

For his Captain, though.

Luffy had said to keep her safe, and this was what Zoro was doing. As long as it was only _Zoro_ getting hurt, then things were okay. He just had to sit tight, not make a fuss, not do anything that would make Harrow decide that maybe he should have a go at hurting the Princess. Ride through the pain, and wait for Luffy.

He would appreciate it, however, if Luffy would stop messing around and hurry the fuck up, because Chopper generally liked his patients to have _some_ blood left in them.

 

* * *

 

Zoro looks even worse when they get him outside and into the sunlight. His normally tan skin is a sickly pale greyish colour. His hair is matted to the sides of his head with sweat, and dried blood crusts at his temples, around the corners of his mouth, and down his chin.

Luffy hovers nearby, as ever discomforted by the sight of Zoro _unconscious_ , because things that knock Zoro out typically mean bad times for Luffy or Luffy’s crew. Bad times for Zoro.

Chopper’s hovers too, worried. Usually with Zoro-injuries, there’s a lot of bright red blood, and a gaping wound or several. Though Zoro looks in bad shape, though there was blood around his chair and it’s staining his clothes dark brown, Chopper can’t see any obvious injuries. Chopper hopes this means some kind of bad internal injury. Chopper hopes that’s it, hopes that it has nothing to do with the niggling fear that wants to ask why they would bind Zoro, a non-devil fruit user, with seastone.

Franky is summoned, and comes equipped with a specially modified pair of wire cutters. Only Franky can operate it, since even opening the cutter’s jaws, let alone using them to cut anything, requires a hydraulic pressure system. But it does what it’s meant to, and cuts through seastone.

(Zoro can also cut through seastone, because he’s an over-achiever, and usually it’s quicker and more efficient to get him to do it, but.)

By now the rest of the crew have gathered; they stand around Zoro, concerned and grave. Franky ushers them all back to ensure he has the space to work, and circles Zoro’s chair, studying him with an engineer’s eye.

Slowly, with care and precision, Franky starts with the manacles at Zoro’s wrists. The soft hiss of hydraulics accompanies the _snap_ of the cutter’s jaws as they open and close around the seastone. When the wrist manacles fall away, the skin underneath is revealed to be a dark, irritated red, like sunburn or a bad rash. Chopper frowns in worry, and the corners of Luffy’s mouth pull down.

Franky moves on to the chains wrapped around Zoro’s torso; one by one they thud to the floor. Soon Zoro is free, and Franky steadies the swordsman before his unconscious body, no longer held to the chair by the chains, can fall to the floor. Zoro’s shirt is in tatters, and through the tears in the fabric Chopper can see that the skin there, too, is… burned? Sanji and Usopp clear away the seastone, so Chopper can finally approach and get to work on his patient.

 _Maybe they heated the chains as a torture method_ , Chopper thinks. _Shit_.

 

* * *

 

The problem with the Princess, Zoro thought groggily, was that she was too soft. _I’ll die before I let you hurt my people!_ Yes, well, it was all very well to say that. Zoro had had plenty of experience with that sort of thing, and the problem was, it was always far easier to sacrifice your own life than someone else’s.

Harrow knew this, unfortunately for the both of them, and even more unfortunately he was getting desperate. Running away from Luffy – who would _eliminate_ Harrow in a one-on-one battle, as Harrow and Zoro both knew – had given the bad guys some time, but not a whole lot of it. He may have lost the battle, but getting the Princess to secede would win Harrow the war. The Princess was brave enough not to give in when there was a gun pointed at her _own_ head. However, threatening to kill Zoro, or worse, actually doing it, might push the Princess over the line and fuck up everything Luffy had been working towards.

Like Zoro was going to let that happen.

Harrow came back an indeterminate amount of time later. He was holding a plate, of all things.

“A while ago someone gave me a present,” Harrow said. “Well, I say _gave me_ \- but that’s not really important. Apparently it’s a devil fruit.” Harrow waved the plate under Zoro’s nose. Whatever it was didn’t even look edible, let alone fruit-like.

“The problem,” Harrow continued, “is not only that I have no idea what _sort_ of devil fruit this is, but I’m also not convinced I even have the entire fruit here. Someone enterprising idiot decided to cut it into strips and dry it, thereby eliminating any chance I had of identifying it. I’m not particularly inclined to take the risk and eat it myself; who knows what’ll happen? On the other hand I can’t let anyone _else_ eat it, because they might end up with something good, and I can’t have that.”

“I bound you in seastone as a precaution,” Harrow said, tapping the chains wrapped around Zoro’s chest. “But then I got to thinking, I have this fruit that _someone_ needs to eat, and I have this prisoner that’s not giving me what I want…”

 _Why_ , Zoro thought, _do they always have to be such_ sadistic _bastards_.

“I think I’ve solved my problem,” Harrow said happily. “And if it doesn’t work, I can always just shoot you.”

 

* * *

 

Franky cradles Zoro’s body gently as he carries the unconscious swordsman to the infirmary and lays him out on the bed. Chopper spares a brief nod of thanks for the shipwright, and hurries over to perform a preliminary exam. Wielding sharp scissors, the doctor cuts away the remains of Zoro’s shirt. The broad, scarred chest is now covered in irregular blotches and stripes of what look like burns. There are matching bracelets of redness around Zoro’s wrists and ankles where he was manacled.

There’s a hiss of sympathy behind Chopper, and he turns to see most of the crew clustered in the doorway to the infirmary, watching him, wanting to see Zoro but not wanting to get in Chopper’s way.

Chopper turns back to his patient, and gently prods the inflamed flesh.

Then he snatches his hoof back, involuntarily, a devil fruit user's instinctive reaction to sensing the effects of seastone.

 _Oh, no_.

Chopper tries again, but his hooves shake. Touching Zoro, touching the burns, feels like plunging his arms into salt water. His limbs go weak, he loses dexterity.

He can’t treat Zoro, not like this, not with shaking and uncareful – un- _doctor_ – hands.

“I’m, uh,” Chopper says, hesitantly. “I’m going to need some assistance.”

“Whatever you need, doctor,” Robin says confidently, stepping forward. Ordinarily, her devil fruit ability is incredibly useful in situations like this, where Chopper needs an extra hand, or ten.

“No, Robin. I need someone who isn’t- I need Sanji, or Usopp, or Nami.”

Robin looks at Chopper, and fear and sadness blooms in her eyes. “You still can’t touch him?”

“What’s wrong?” Luffy demands. Luffy knows that Chopper is the best doctor in the world, and he knows that Zoro can and will survive anything up to and including the end of the world. “Chopper, there’s no more seastone.” They were just chains, right? And Zoro’s not a devil fruit user. “ _Fix him._ ”

Chopper bites his lip. “I don’t really know what happened, but, it seems that there’s still some seastone embedded in his skin. That’s my best guess right now. I need to perform a proper exam but I can’t do that if the seastone affects me.”

“I’ll help,” Nami says, shouldering her way into the infirmary. “Just tell me what to do.”

“Where’s the Princess?” Luffy asks, whirling around. Luffy hates waiting, hates when there’s nothing _he_ can do to fix things.

“Below decks,” Brook says.

“Find out what happened,” Luffy commands. Brook starts to head off, but Luffy forestalls him. “No, wait, bring her here. Let her see this, then _find out what happened_.”

 

* * *

 

Harrow forced Zoro’s head backwards hard, whacking the swordsman’s skull on the chair and briefly stunning him. Taking advantage of Zoro’s disorientation, Harrow pulled Zoro’s lower jaw down, and stuffed a handful of desiccated _something_ into his open mouth. Harrow then forced Zoro’s mouth closed, holding it shut, and used his other hand to pinch the swordsman’s nostrils together, effectively closing off all of Zoro’s airways.

The implication was clear: swallow, or suffocate. By then, Zoro knew better than to call the man’s bluff.

The Princess hiccupped sadly, the remnant of a previous ten minutes spent crying and pleading. Honestly, that had probably just made it worse for Zoro.

“Last chance, Princess,” Harrow said, voice low, threatening, loving.

Zoro flexed in his bonds. Harrow’s grip was unmoving, and Zoro was weakened by blood-loss, concussion, cracked bones, loss of air. The strain of waiting for Luffy to come.

 _Any minute now_.

The Princess drew in a shaking breath, and Zoro could tell she was also weakening, though she was physically unharmed.

Zoro kicked, or tried to.

Harrow gave a rumbling chuckle, and his grip tightened. Zoro felt the bruises begin, and the knowledge that he’d have this _asshole’s_ fingerprints on his jaw enraged him. Zoro bucked, ineffectively.

“I-” the Princess began.

Zoro would _die_ before he’d allow this _fuckface_ the satisfaction. As the edges of Zoro’s vision blurred from lack of air, Zoro formed both hands into clenched fists. The jerk of movement drew the Princess’ attention.

Double middle finger, _dickbag_.

“I will not secede,” the Princess said, finding sudden conviction in Zoro’s defiant act.

In retrospect, that had been a stupid thing to do.

“So be it,” Harrow said.

In retrospect, Luffy had been _wrong_.

Zoro’s head started to pound, his lungs aching for oxygen. He could barely move his head, and the man’s hands were unshakeable.

“Swallow,” Harrow commanded.

Zoro swallowed.

 

* * *

 

The Princess is shaking like a leaf as she watches Chopper direct Nami in washing Zoro’s burns with distilled, fresh water.

“What happened, Princess?” Robin asks gently.

“A lot of things happened,” she says, dazed and preoccupied with the way Chopper moves Nami’s hands to feel for internal bruising, broken bones.

Luffy’s jaw sets, and he actually looks angry with impatience. “What happened to cause _that_ ,” he says tightly, jerking a hand in Zoro’s direction, indicating the brand marks.

“Harrow made him swallow something,” the Princess says, voice soft and distant. “I think it was a devil fruit.”

Luffy hisses _“What”_ at the same time as Chopper says, “You _think?_ ”

Stuttering, the Princess explains. She tells them how Harrow had captured them and bound them, sitting across from each other. How he had tried to get the Princess to concede to his demands by working Zoro over using the usual methods – punching, kicking –

“That explains the cracked ribs,” Chopper mutters, as he hands Nami some sort of salve and she starts gently coating Zoro’s wrists with it, her face fierce but her movements controlled.

– and how the Princess had been appalled, ready to give in, had it not been for Zoro’s stubbornness, and steadfastness, and his insistence that the Princess not throw away all that Luffy had fought for. She tells them how Harrow had left and come back with strips of dried fruit, telling them he was really interested in what would happen if a devil fruit was eaten while drowning.

And then she tells them how Zoro screamed.

 

* * *

 

It tasted like leather shoelaces, if you dipped them in fruit juice and let them sit for a good long while. Slightly rancid, a faint suggestion of rotten oranges. But also tough and sharp like really old jerky.

The dried strips scraped down Zoro’s throat, stabbing his oesophagus on the way down. He swallowed several more times, willing saliva to ease the way. The substance refused to sit easy, dropping through his guts like a stone, settling in his abdomen like bad plum pudding, a lump of indigestion.

He shifted, uncomfortable. Harrow released Zoro’s head and just watched him, something wrong in his eyes.

Then the pain started. It built slowly, unlike Thriller Bark; and Zoro could only compare it to Thriller Bark.

Thriller Bark was like being punched on soft, unsuspecting flesh a thousand times over, dozens of hits in each single spot – which, to be fair, was exactly what it was. _This_ , however, this was like having a tickle, that turned into a cough, that split your stomach open. His insides felt like they were shifting about, flipping inside out, the pain slowly and steadily increasing in crescendo, his lungs and heart and liver and stomach all boiling together in his ribcage. Stabbing pains, cramps, pins and needles. Like being poisoned, Zoro thought, what a fucking _stupid_ way for the future world’s best swordsman to die, his insides ripped open and liquified by something so insignificant as a chemical compound. Zoro started retching up mouthfuls of blood, red dribbling down his chin, soaking into his shirt.

It continued to build, pressure and aching and stabbing. Eventually sensations blurred, the horrific _pain_ so all-encompassing that Zoro became a being made only of screaming nerve receptors.

 _That_ was how it was like Thriller Bark.

After a time – seconds, perhaps, or years – it faded. Zoro came back to this plane of existence. He could once again feel his limbs, the chair back hard against his spine, the crescent-shaped wounds in his palms where his fingernails were digging in. His jaw unclenched, his teeth aching from being forced together against the pain.

Zoro actually opened his eyes, took a breath. Had long enough to see the look of glee on _shit-stick’s_ face, before the burning hit.

Listen, Zoro was a badass motherfucker. He’d found himself in the middle of nowhere with gaping wounds and no doctor in sight before, so he wasn’t a stranger to the benefits of cauterisation, especially when faced with the very much non-benefits of infection or gangrene. When holding a red-hot sword to sensitive flesh, he gritted his teeth and got on with it. He didn’t bitch or complain, and he definitely didn’t scream.

Zoro screamed.

The chains across his chest and stomach suddenly seared into his skin, branding him in irregular stripes. His wrists and ankles felt like they’d been encircled in _acid_. Like lye dust sprinkled across his skin, mixing with the bubbling blood to peel away layers, epidermis, dermis, hypodermis.

There was no heat, only _burning_ and _it didn’t stop_.

Zoro’s muscles locked and released but he barely moved an inch, convulsing, like he was paralysed. He twisted, bucked, felt tears pricking his eyes, _Luffy, now, PLEASE_ – but couldn’t escape the pain.

His sense of time distorted; as Harrow and the Princess watched, Zoro lived in this hell for an eternity. His throat went raw, and the extended scream turned into desperate wheezes and gasps, and still the burning _didn’t stop_.

 

* * *

 

Luffy’s world narrows to a pin-prick focus, to Zoro’s unmoving form laid out on the infirmary bed. Luffy’s own breathing sounds loud in his ears, harsh and just shy of hyperventilation, as he wishes with every fibre of his being that he could go back and pummel Harrow to a pulp. Until his face was just a mess of flesh and blood beneath Luffy’s fists, and Harrow wasn’t ever going to get up anymore.

Fuck ‘living with his failure’, for what he had done to Zoro Harrow deserved the absolute worst that Luffy could give him. But it was too late, now. Luffy couldn’t take a do-over on that fight, and he couldn’t go back and change the split-second decision he’d made when he _could_ have gotten Zoro out but _didn’t_.

The Princess would have been fine. Harrow needed her alive, and in any case if it came to choosing between Zoro and her, Luffy would have known which way he’d go so quickly even he might have been embarrassed by it. But instead Luffy had chosen to let Zoro go, get taken by that stupid spider-guy, ‘ _keep her safe_ ’ – what the fuck was he thinking? As if he needed Zoro anywhere else, anywhere except by his side.

And then he fucked up again. Zoro had hung on for him, the Princess had said, calling Luffy’s name like a litany even while his body was trying to turn itself inside out, broken by the paradox of eating a devil fruit while bound in its anathema. Instead of getting them out, Luffy had been late, he’d stopped to allow people to lick their wounds, evacuate the town, some bullshit he can’t even remember and certainly doesn’t care about. He’d let Zoro sit there, bound, in pain, _waiting for him_ , and Luffy had only showed up at the end, when it was all over and the damage had been done.

Luffy can only pray, to the gods of the sea and the sky and the sickroom, that when – _when_ – Zoro wakes up, Luffy’s actions haven’t done irreparable damage. Chopper had said something to Luffy’s numb ears, about devil fruits and unpredictable consequences, and Luffy actually honest-to-god hopes that Zoro gets some fucked up version that just gives him internal injuries, because if Zoro gets out of this with an actual devil fruit power? That may be the one thing he’d never forgive Luffy for.

 

* * *

 

The first thing Zoro thinks when he wakes up – after _ow_ and _that fucking hurt you stupid son of a bitch_ – is that Luffy is going to be so disappointed in him. Instead of getting the Princess out, Zoro had managed to make _himself_ the damsel-in-distress, which was both embarrassing and a failure of the trust Luffy had placed in him.

Zoro’s soul was lost to Luffy approximately ten minutes after meeting him, and it was irretrievable after two days, so it’s not really surprising when that thought – that Zoro had let Luffy down – stings as much as it does, but Zoro pushes it away for the time being.

His whole body aches. It hurts every time he breathes: first with a particular sharp pain that Zoro has learnt means cracked ribs, and second with the uncomfortable stretch of newly scarred skin. Zoro winces, hoping that the burning wasn’t as extensive as it felt.

He then takes careful stock of his entire body, coming up with a full inventory of limbs, which is good. Zoro mentally prods his extremities, but none of them feel like they have any inclination to turn into a claw or some random element, which is also good. Well, Zoro thinks as he carefully and slowly sits up, in terms of _prices paid_ it looks like he’d at least walked away from this one with a discount.

Zoro is carefully unwinding the bandages around one of his wrists in order to get a better look at the damage, when Chopper walks into the infirmary. The doctor is carrying a glass of milk and a plate with a sandwich on it, both of which nearly go flying when he sees Zoro awake, sitting up, and divesting himself of bandages.

“Zoro! Stop that! Are you alright? How does it hurt?” Chopper switches rapidly from instinctive outrage to professional concern as he dumps his food on a nearby bench and flies to Zoro’s side.

“Stop that,” Chopper chides more gently, starting to re-wrap the bandage around Zoro’s wrist.

“I just wanted to have a look,” Zoro says softly.

Chopper looks at Zoro and then, to Zoro’s surprise, relents.

“Fine,” the doctor says. “But only this arm, and then I’m re-wrapping it. The wounds need to stay covered in the salve to mitigate as much of the damage as possible.”

 _What damage_ , Zoro thinks, _they’re just scars_. Some people collect tattoos, Zoro collects scars. Then, as Chopper finishes unwinding the bandage, Zoro’s attention is re-focused on inspecting one of the new marks on his body. The scar loops around his wrist like a bracelet, looking exactly like a newly healed burn scar, the skin pink and tight and just a little bit angry. There are certainly matching marks on his other wrist and his ankles, from the manacles.

“It’s not as bad on your chest,” Chopper says. “Your shirt provided some protection.”

Zoro shrugs; it’ll fade with time and sun.

“The Princess told us what happened,” Chopper says then, employing his gentle sickroom voice, which Zoro personally resents whenever it’s directed at him.

“How’re Luffy and the others?” Zoro asks instead. “And the Princess,” he adds belatedly.

“They’re fine,” Chopper says, allowing the misdirection for the moment. “We’re on our way to the next island. Luffy made the Princess go home. He said her people needed her.”

A little bit of the pressure on Zoro’s chest eases up once Chopper confirms that Zoro’s failure hadn’t put anyone at risk.

Chopper is picking at the sheet on Zoro’s bed. “Actually, I think Luffy just wanted her gone. I don’t think he wanted her to be here when you woke up.”

Zoro digests this information. It’s difficult to be sure of Luffy’s motivations at the best of times, even though Zoro is generally better at knowing what’s going on in their Captain’s mind than the rest of the crew. It’s doubly difficult when Zoro wasn’t there to see Luffy’s face and body language, and doesn’t have the full context for what happened.

“She was probably annoying him,” Zoro settles on, probably because it’s true, for a variety of reasons.

Chopper gives him a fleeting smile. “I should tell the others you’re awake.”

“Chopper.” Zoro’s hand on Chopper’s arm stops him from leaving just yet. “What damage?”

Chopper takes a deep breath. “I don’t really know,” Chopper says, and is clearly filled with guilt because of it. “You definitely consumed a devil fruit, or part of one. That’s what caused the burns. There was a fine layer of seastone seared into your skin-” Zoro winces, and wishes Chopper wouldn’t use words like _sear_ “-which Nami helped me clean out and then I was able to treat you properly. The salve is to neutralise the effects of the seastone as your skin heals. But it doesn’t make sense, Zoro. All you had besides the burns was some bruises and cuts and a few cracked ribs. Nothing serious, especially by your standards. But there was too much blood, Zoro, and it doesn’t make _sense_ , and I don’t know what else _it’s_ done to you.”

“Hey, it’s fine,” Zoro says, attempting to ease the stricken look on Chopper’s face. “We’ll work it out.”

“I don’t know,” Chopper insists. “I don’t know whether you have devil fruit powers, or if triggering any transformation will backfire and make it hurt worse. I don’t know whether you can swim or if salt water makes you weak. I don’t know if you heal faster, what effect it has on your body chemistry, how you’re going to react to any of my medicines, _I don’t know_.” Chopper’s voice is high with tension, and his large brown eyes look at Zoro beseechingly.

Zoro is abruptly reminded how _young_ Chopper is. “We’ll work it out,” Zoro says again, at the same time as he’s thinking _Fuck_.

“You don’t understand,” Chopper says. “Harrow meant for this to _kill_ you.”

Zoro almost scoffs, because so did Kuma, and Morgan, and a thousand others between them, and look where it had gotten them. But he doesn’t, instead he says, “No, he didn’t. If he meant to kill me he would have shot me in the head. Harrow meant for it to hurt so much it _looked_ like I was dying, so the Princess would be scared into doing what he wanted. But instead Luffy showed up in time so it all worked out.”

Chopper doesn’t look convinced. “Harrow didn’t know what would happen. It _could_ have killed you.”

“But it didn’t,” Zoro says with finality, swinging his legs off the bed. He’s tired of this line of reasoning. He survived. Anything else is irrelevant.

“I’m still scared,” Chopper says. “There might be side-effects, or something I’ve missed.”

“Then we’ll deal with that when it happens. Fetch Luffy, I want to see him.”

And Zoro does, abruptly and badly, he wants to see his Captain. To know how badly he fucked up, if this has shifted things between them. _That_ is far more important than some nebulous side-effects.

Chopper gives Zoro an unimpressed look, but leaves the sickroom without saying anything further. He returns with Luffy following, the expression on their Captain’s face sober.

The uncomfortable pressure in Zoro’s chest turns to stone and plummets to his gut.

“You okay?” Luffy asks.

“Yeah,” Zoro says, cautiously. “Did the Princess secede?” he asks, because no-one’s actually told him yet.

“No. Why would she?”

Zoro gives a one-shouldered shrug. “Didn’t know how bad it looked.” _She shouldn’t have even been in that situation._

Luffy’s eyes go dark. “Pretty bad.”

Zoro huffs a laugh with no real amusement behind it. “He pushed too far, huh?”

It’s Luffy’s turn to shrug. “She was too soft.”

 _Yeah,_ Zoro thinks, _she was probably no use to anyone after seeing that._

There’s a beat of silence, then Luffy asks bluntly: “Do you have a devil fruit power?”

Zoro’s shoulders tense. “I don’t know.”

Luffy nods, once. Then: “Lunch is ready.” And Luffy turns and leaves.

Zoro watches him go, and then sighs, so slightly it’s barely more than an exhale. He gathers his limbs and moves to push himself off the bed.

“Um,” Chopper says.

Zoro gives him a warning look, _don’t_ , and Chopper’s gotten better at picking his battles so he just shifts to his human form and helps Zoro stand. Zoro winces at the pressure on the scars around his ankles, but it’s a momentary discomfort. He makes his way to the galley under his own steam, ignoring Chopper hovering nearby, and swears to himself for the thousandth time that he will get stronger.

 

* * *

 

Lunch is as chaotic as usual. The crew talk above and around Zoro, peppering Chopper with questions the doctor can’t answer. Everybody seems to know a lot more about what’s going on with Zoro than Zoro does, which Zoro figures is probably how Luffy feels all the time.

Speaking of whom, Luffy keeps shooting Zoro these sidelong glances, and Zoro can’t figure out _why_. Zoro can’t tell what Luffy is thinking – which in itself is terrifying, like the rock beneath his feet has turned to shifting sand. Luffy has frequently left Zoro confused, but never to the extent that Zoro couldn’t get some kind of read on him.

Zoro fucked up – he gets that – but he doesn’t know how to fix it. Promises to get stronger, to not fail again, are meaningless without proof in action. Apologies are equally useless.

For the first time, Zoro honestly doesn’t know what Luffy wants from him. It’s like going blind.

"So can Zoro still swim?" Usopp asks, oblivious to Zoro’s vertigo.

"Only one way to find out," Sanji says, ominously.

"Let's use the bath," Chopper says hurriedly, before Zoro ends up in the ocean.

Which is how Zoro ends up cautiously lowering himself into a bathtub filled with seawater. Chopper is hovering nearby, in case of emergencies, and Sanji and Franky are there as the only non-devil fruit users who would be capable of lifting an unconscious or paralysed Zoro out of the water, if necessary.

Zoro’s shirtless, but Sanji had insisted he keep his pants on. Zoro had almost stripped down out of spite, but Chopper had given him a _don’t start_ look, and the doctor had been surprisingly tolerant with Zoro so far, so Zoro manfully refrained from giving Sanji an eyeful.

As Zoro lowers himself into a sitting position in the water, and doesn’t immediately sag with the salt water-weakness, there’s a palpable sense of relief in the room. Apart from a slight burning sensation around his ankles through the fabric of his socks, which Zoro had forgotten to remove, the sea water feels much like it always has.

“Take off your socks,” Sanji commands, voice high and outraged at the atrocity he sees being committed before him.

“No,” Zoro says, mostly on principle. “My feet’ll get cold.”

Sanji makes noises like an angry cow as Franky laughs, and Zoro smirks through the stinging around his ankles as Chopper rolls his eyes.

“Well, that’s a relief,” Chopper says, looking a lot less worried. “If salt water doesn’t affect you then it was probably only a partial devil fruit and the transformation didn’t stick, which means any other side-effects are unlikely. Let’s test full submersion, just to be sure.”

Zoro obeys, lowering the rest of himself into the water. He’s under for about a second before he abruptly jerks upright, face contorted in pain, knuckles white where he’s gripping the sides of the tub.

"Burns," he grits out.

"What does?" Chopper says in panic, fluttering around frantically as Sanji and Franky rapidly help Zoro out of the tub, all semblance of teasing gone.

"Chest. Brands." Zoro makes a conscious effort to master the pain. All he can think are words like _scorching_ and _corrosion_.

Sanji and Franky work quickly to rinse Zoro down with fresh water, which eases but doesn’t erase the lines of pain on Zoro’s face.

As they exit the bathroom, the rest of the crew look at them expectantly. Luffy’s clocks the expressions on his nakama’s faces and immediately demands, “What happened?”

“Sea water makes the burns hurt,” Sanji says, stone-faced.

 _Understatement_ , Zoro thinks. Luffy turns to him, conflict in his eyes.

“But it doesn’t make me _weak_ ,” Zoro tells Luffy, and it sounds like an apology. “It doesn’t paralyse.”

Zoro and Luffy stare at each other. There’s a helplessness in the way the tightness around Zoro’s eyes hasn’t eased since he woke up, in the way Luffy, normally so tactile, holds back from touching Zoro.

Franky clears his throat. Suddenly Zoro and Luffy are looking past each other, to the side. "Well,” the shipwright says in an attempt at easing the heavy atmosphere, “at least Zoro won't drown."

"Unless he passes out from the pain underwater," Chopper says, because this is serious.

"I've never passed out from pain," Zoro says arrogantly, which is a fucking lie, but Chopper must see through the bravado because the doctor lets it slide.

“So what does this tell us?” Robin asks.

Chopper shrugs unhappily. “Nothing much, honestly.”

“But surely if sea water doesn’t affect him, then Zoro can’t have a devil fruit,” Nami says, frowning.

“Maybe,” Robin says. “Or maybe the manner in which he consumed the fruit has given him immunity to that weakness.”

Nami draws in a sharp breath. If that was true, and others found out, the implications could be very dangerous.

“It could also be that the seastone prevented the manifestation of the devil fruit, and in doing so left a permanent residue in Zoro’s skin, like a tattoo. That would explain the burning, too,” Chopper says. “We really won’t know anything until Zoro shows sign of some sort of devil fruit power.”

“And if I don’t?” “And if he doesn’t?” Zoro and Luffy ask, at the same time, and with equal expressions of intensity on their faces.

Zoro doesn’t want to look at Luffy. Whether or not he has a devil fruit power, Zoro is now dangerously close to tipping the number of hammers on their crew to _half_. Which is bad, especially this far in the Grandline; it’s another weakness that Luffy has to cover in his crew. And if Zoro _doesn’t_ have a devil fruit, then it’s a weakness without reward.

Luffy’s rubber but he’s stretching himself thin as it is, and it has everything to do with Ace. Zoro knows the desperation Luffy’s hiding just below the surface, can feel it alive and parasitic under Luffy’s skin when he allows himself to give in and touch his Captain. It’s the desperation to not lose anyone else, not _again_. It’s the only thing Zoro can think of, that would make Luffy lock him out like this.

So Zoro hates what made him this way, hates himself for not stopping it. It isn’t about the Princess, or not carrying out Luffy’s orders. It’s for failing in being Luffy’s one sure thing, the one person he never has to worry about. Because Zoro is supposed to become the World’s Greatest Swordsman, and Luffy the Pirate King, and if Zoro can’t stand beside Luffy as an equal then what the fuck is he doing here?

Poor Chopper doesn’t have the answer to that question. “Zoro should really stay out of the sea,” is all the doctor can say.

 

* * *

 

Zoro doesn’t show any further indication of being any more freakishly non-human than usual, and eventually stops wincing whenever he gets up too quickly. Things return to normal over the next few days. Sort of. On the surface.

Not really.

There’s this weird tension between captain and first mate. They don’t act differently; it’s more like a subtle shift in the air, a flicker of the eyelids, or a slightly odd inflection. Some of the Straw Hats notice sooner than others, but eventually all of them think, at some point, _why are Zoro and Luffy being so weird?_

Initially, it was because Luffy had felt guilty. That doesn’t really ease, and it probably won’t until Luffy can be _sure_ Zoro doesn’t have a devil fruit power, and that Luffy’s actions hadn’t royally fucked up Zoro’s chance to achieve his one and only goal in life. The first thing Luffy should have said to Zoro was _Sorry_ , but then Zoro hadn’t looked like he wanted an apology from Luffy.

That’s the problem: the way Zoro had looked at Luffy. Luffy isn’t stupid; well, not about certain things. He’s never stupid about Zoro.

Zoro despises weakness in himself. But this isn’t about weakness, which, if Luffy could convince his vocal cords to work for five fucking seconds, is exactly what he’d tell Zoro.

What Harrow had done would’ve killed a lesser man, Luffy is certain. Zoro is strong in a lot of ways – he can cut through any substance Luffy cares to name, perform insane feats of weight-lifting, and not bat an eye in the face of extreme danger – but Zoro, like Luffy, is strongest in his will to _survive_. Luffy had known this immediately when they first met, known it in the way that, even half-starved, Zoro’s eyes had burned into Luffy and _ignited_ _him_.

That survival instinct came from the fact that Zoro and Luffy both lived for their one goal, promise, dream, vow, whatever. But somehow, somewhere along the way, without Luffy noticing it, Zoro had traded living for his white sword into living _for Luffy_. And suddenly, Luffy sees it in Zoro’s eyes, hears it when Zoro insists he’s _not weak, this doesn’t change anything_.

Not that Luffy wouldn’t die for each and every one of his crew, and he knows, though he will make sure it never _ever_ happens, that they would die for him. But to supersede Zoro’s dream like this, that makes Luffy feel so hideously guilty it locks up his lungs, and his jaw, and he can’t speak, touch Zoro, anything.

Because it _is_ Luffy’s fault. Luffy had been reckless with Zoro. He’d blackmailed the man into joining his crew, because he’d known Zoro kept his promises. Luffy had encouraged Zoro’s natural tendency to loyalty, delighting in _Cut it, Zoro_ , and _Come with me, Zoro_ , and _Captain’s orders, Zoro_. Luffy had fed Zoro’s blood-lust with his own, leading him to stronger and stronger opponents, and rewarding victories with sunshine grins and lingering touches.

Luffy had _wanted_ , but he had held himself back from asking, because it wasn’t fair to Zoro, and Luffy couldn’t just _take_. And then apparently Luffy had turned around and done just that.

 

* * *

 

They’re about two days out from the next island. Luffy is in his customary seat on the lion figure-head, sitting cross-legged and staring out to sea. A short distance behind him, Zoro is slumped against the deck railing, eyes closed. He’s not sleeping; Chopper can tell.

The persistent, underlying tension is making Chopper’s fur stand on end. He switches to his full reindeer form, just in case that helps.

It doesn’t.

“Has this ever happened before?” Chopper asks Sanji in a conspiratorial whisper.

The cook raises an eyebrow at him. “Has what happened before?”

Chopper waves a hoof in the general direction of Luffy and Zoro. The way Sanji’s mouth goes flat tells Chopper Sanji knows exactly what Chopper means.

“No,” Sanji says, but doesn’t seem inclined to volunteer more information.

“It’s weird, right?” Chopper says insistently, because it _is_. There have been times when Zoro hasn’t carried out Luffy’s orders, though mostly only because Zoro was unconscious. And Zoro has gotten hurt because of Luffy before, too, though it’s almost always an accident. Neither Luffy nor Zoro have previously seemed to care about it, and Chopper has never seen them be anything but supremely comfortable around each other.

Sanji lights a cigarette. Chopper suppresses the urge to tell him lung cancer statistics.

“It’s because of the devil fruit,” Sanji says. Chopper tilts his head on its side quizzically, like a dog, and Sanji ruffles the fur between his horns affectionately.

“We had a conversation, once, about what devil fruit we’d want given the chance. I think it was before you joined the crew.” Sanji screws up his nose in an attempt at recollection. “Luffy said he wouldn’t want any other devil fruit, and Zoro said he wouldn’t want any devil fruit at all. When Nami asked him why, Zoro said it would make defeating Mihawk meaningless.” Sanji shrugs. “I guess he thinks it’s like cheating.”

Chopper knows how important Zoro’s dream is to him, and also how Luffy takes the dreams of his crewmates very, very seriously. Still, “What does that have to do with what happened to Zoro? I mean, if it turns out Zoro has a devil fruit that’s going to suck, but that wasn’t Luffy’s fault.”

“No,” Sanji agrees. “But if it turns out to be a permanent thing Luffy’s going to try and take responsibility for it.”

“Surely Zoro doesn’t blame Luffy?” Chopper asks incredulously.

Sanji barks out a laugh. “I don’t think the moss-head is even capable of holding a grudge against Luffy; not _Luffy_ , of all people.” Sanji shakes his head and his eyes go unfocused, looking past Chopper. “You remember Thriller Bark?”

“Yes?”

“Well, it’s the same thing. If Luffy had been there-” Sanji snaps his mouth shut abruptly. He jerks his chin in the direction of Zoro and Luffy. “Let’s just say this is overdue.”

“I don’t understand,” Chopper says. “If Zoro doesn’t blame Luffy, and Luffy doesn’t blame Zoro, what’s the problem?”

“The problem,” Sanji says, “is that they’re both the same type of idiot, and it was bound to bite them in the ass sooner or later.” Sanji gives up on his cigarette and flings it over the side of the ship into the water. “They’ll work it out. Don’t worry about it, Chopper.”

Telling Chopper not to worry about this is like telling him not to breathe, especially when the unnatural tension between Luffy and Zoro is so _obvious_ , and also now that he knows Zoro’s dream might be ruined. But Chopper takes the comfort for what it is. _Have faith_ , is what Sanji means, and if there’s one thing Chopper believes in its his crew.

 

* * *

 

One way or another Chopper doesn’t have to wait long, because the very next day the Thousand Sunny blithely sails straight into a Marine ambush.

The sharp crack of cannon fire shatters the still morning, and brings every Straw Hat running. Most of the initial volley falls short of Sunny, and a quick-thinking Luffy bounces the rest harmlessly into the water. They’ve been taken by surprise, however, and in short order the Sunny is surrounded by a slew of Marine ships with open cannon-ports pointing in their direction.

Half the Straw Hats take up defensive positions to protect Sunny – Franky deflects incoming shots, Usopp returns fire, and Nami and Chopper secure the deck and start preparing for a quick getaway. Robin shimmies up the main mast and begins picking off Marines with her devil fruit ability, well out of range of any attack. Brook and Sanji split – one to the left, one to the right – seeking to immobilise the Marine ships and cannons as quickly as possible.

And Luffy, of course, rockets straight down the middle towards the largest ship. Zoro grabs the back of Luffy’s vest as he flies past, hitching a ride. They crash-land into a dense clump of Marines, and the fight begins in earnest.

Zoro and Luffy are both powerful enough that fighting on top of each other is more of a hindrance than a help. Accordingly, Zoro is on the complete opposite side of the ship from Luffy when it all starts to go wrong.

Slicing sideways, Zoro catches his first opponent across the jugular. He doesn’t bother dodging the spray of arterial blood, and it splashes across his jaw and down the front of his chest.

Then his barely healed brand marks flare, sending the ghost of burning across his skin. The remembered pain forces Zoro’s focus sideways for a second, and when it comes back, all Zoro can think is that how come he never noticed how much _blood_ there is everywhere?

His nostrils flare, and suddenly the metallic scent of blood is _all_ he can smell. He can _hear_ it, too, liquid iron, pulsing through everyone, all around him. A fragile layer of skin is the only thing standing in his way, and hey – Zoro has swords.

Barely registering what he’s doing, Zoro runs Shuusui through a nearby body. It comes out glistening red, and Zoro stares at the bloody sword, oddly fascinated.

His momentary distraction earns him a blow to the head, and Zoro staggers. His mind clears for half a second-

_-is it that? Chopper said-_

-and then fogs back over with an inescapable, intense blood lust.

So Zoro does what he does best, and throws himself into the fight. He rails against the enemy, forcing them back, strike after strike until his lungs feel bitter with lactic acid. Every breath he takes tastes heavy with iron. He has dog-vision – black and white. The only bursts of colour are bright red, dark red, brown-red.

Despite his growing body count, Zoro is distantly aware that he’s actually fighting quite badly, close call after close call. He almost loses an ear. One pant leg is slit open. At some point, he swallows and his adam’s apple bobs against sharp steel. But it gets worse. Because he keeps asking for it – every time a close call gets even closer, every time his _own_ blood gets drawn, the seastone brands throb, and Zoro’s vision star-bursts so _beautifully_.

A Marine throws up his arm to shield his face, earning a deep slice from Zoro’s swords in his forearm. The line of blood blooms in Zoro’s eyes. Kitetsu clatters to the ground, and suddenly Zoro’s grabbing at the Marine’s bleeding arm with his now free hand. His fingers dig viciously into the wound, tearing it open further.

Zoro distantly registers the man’s scream as he wrenches himself out of Zoro’s grip, and gore splatters across the distance between them. Zoro takes up Kitetsu again with a blood-coated hand, the hilt slick in his palm and the sword’s laughter ringing in his ears.

The blood-rage carries him through another dozen opponents. At some point Zoro is drawing a vicious line with his swords across a man’s stomach, when a body thuds down in front of him. The dead man’s face is smashed in, his nose a bloody pulp. The sight of it manages to get one thought through the thick haze that is blanketing Zoro’s brain and all his senses.

 _Luffy_. _Where is he._

Like a splash of cold water, Zoro abruptly realises that somewhere in this disastrous fight, he has lost track of Luffy.

They’ve de-synced. This has literally never happened before. Zoro has excellent battle-sense, and being around Luffy, who likes to fling limbs in unpredictable directions, has only sharpened Zoro’s instincts. He always knows where his nakama are in battle; _always_ knows where Luffy is, if only so Zoro doesn’t accidently catch a rubber fist to the face.

But the blood had been singing to him, pulling him every which way, and during it all somehow Luffy has slipped of Zoro’s radar. The realisation unbalances Zoro further, and it takes precious seconds for him to recalibrate, whipping himself around in a frantic and irrational effort to relocate Luffy. Zoro almost loses a hand because of it – instinct is the only thing that saves him, twisting his arm out of the way with no input from his brain, which is busy chanting _where where where_.

It’s not like it’s ever hard to find Luffy. With increasingly clogged senses, Zoro fights his way across the ship, following the trail of groaning and bruised bodies, and soon, with a disproportionate feeling of relief, he sees his captain. Luffy is holding position along the side of the ship, with the sea at his back. The deck around him is all torn up, and jagged spikes of wood stick in the air from where a good chunk of the railing is missing.

Luffy’s punching the shit out of anyone within reach, his eyes wild and reckless as he fights, taking it out on the hapless Marines, all the pent-up frustration of the last week. And that’s a problem, because he’s getting sloppy. The tactician in Zoro automatically notices at least three gaps in Luffy’s defence.

Unfortunately, so does someone else. Zoro is still halfway across the deck when a Marine with a very short time left to live strikes out his cutlass at Luffy’s unprotected back. Zoro’s about to watch his captain get cleaved open from neck to tailbone.

Panic slices through the red haze clouding the Zoro’s vision, through the scent and taste of blood. The fear morphs, and without Zoro’s permission crests into a wave of desperate energy that flows from Zoro, through Zoro, picking up the strength of his haki along the way, and then out and across the deck towards Luffy.

The gore-spattered deck beneath Zoro’s feet heaves oddly. Blood starts to run out of nearby bodies, creating a shallow wave of red that rapidly washes across the deck towards where an unaware Luffy is still focused on the opponent in from of him.

This is what happens in the next two seconds: Luffy takes a step forward to brace himself, but slips, his leg shooting out from under him. Unable to get any purchase on the suddenly blood-slick deck, Luffy can’t stop himself from skidding off the edge, through the gap in the railing, and into the sea.

The Marine slices down into nothing but air.

Arms wind-milling and with utter surprise written across his features, Luffy hits the water and goes under.

 

* * *

 

Luffy loves the sea, but he also fucking hates it.

He hates it, because it can’t forgive him for wanting to be more than human. So it steals his air and turns his bones to lead and tries its level best to ensure Luffy dies in silence and darkness.

Though to be fair to the sea, in this instance it was all Luffy’s fault. He’d taken a dozen risks in that fight, ranging from stupid to extremely stupid. Luffy had felt the spirit of the Marine behind him, sharp and intent on harm, but instead of doing something about it, Luffy’s dumb brain had sensed _sharp_ and answered _Zoro_. So Luffy hadn’t moved, which was where the extremely stupid came in, because the last time Luffy had seen Zoro was on the other side of the ship.

As Luffy sinks, he watches the sunlight shaft through the clear seawater, lighting up a thousand different shades of blue. It’s beautiful, for a given definition of terrifying.

Then, as his vision is losing focus and his head pounding from lack of air, a shadow crosses in front of him. The sunlight is blocked by the familiar shape of his first mate, and around Zoro, as he dives downwards towards Luffy, the blue water is tainted by bursts and eddies of red. Luffy feels familiar hands grip his vest and haul him up, upwards, back up to the light.

They burst out of the water, both gasping for air. Luffy draws in a long, shuddering breath, forcing air into his partially paralysed lungs. Zoro’s inhale is more like a sob, a broken _ah-ah_ of pain.

“Zor-” Luffy tries, but the seawater has him too badly.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Zoro curses. “ _Shit, fuck, balls_.” He starts a laborious one-armed swim towards the nearest ship, his other arm curled around Luffy’s chest and keeping Luffy’s head above water. “ _Goddammit. Motherfucker. Son. Of. A. Bitch._ ” Zoro swears for every stroke he takes, his eyes getting more and more pinched in pain.

They hit the hull. There’s a torn piece of rigging hanging over the side of the ship, and Zoro loops the arm not around Luffy through the rope. His hand fists in the rigging, the knuckles white. Zoro’s head thumps against the hull, his eyes now screwed up tight. It looks like it’s taking all his strength just to keep himself and Luffy afloat, tethered there.

“Zoro,” Luffy manages, but it comes out as barely a whisper.

The only sound Zoro can make is a whine of pain, forced out through clenched teeth. Rarely has Luffy ever felt more helpless.

Suddenly the rigging they’re clinging to is being hauled upwards, pulling them out of the water and up to the deck of the ship.

 _If this is the fucking Marines,_ Luffy thinks, _first I’m going to thank them, and then I’m going to annihilate them_.

It’s not the Marines, it’s a dour-faced Sanji and a worried-looking Brook. Their crewmates finish hauling them on board, and Luffy summons enough strength to lift his head and notice that there’s not a single Marine standing. Good.

Franky’s bringing the Sunny around. Luffy and Zoro strip down to their underwear, shedding the salt water-soaked clothes as quickly as possible. Brook looks on sympathetically as Zoro and Luffy get goosepimples in the cool sea breeze. Luffy inspects Zoro’s profile; the line of his first mate’s jaw looks set in stone. Luffy wonders how much of the pain Zoro’s fighting now is real, and how much is remembered.

“Fucking dumbasses,” is the only contribution Sanji has to the situation.

They get back on Sunny, and Nami throws towels and clean clothes at them. They dry off, change, and then Luffy grabs Zoro by the wrist and drags him into the aquarium room, slamming the door behind them.

 

* * *

 

“This stops now.” Luffy’s using his captain voice.

Zoro’s unimpressed. Then, he just tired. He scrubs a hand over his face. “What do you want me to say, Luffy?”

“Just-” Luffy waves his hands about helplessly. “Whatever happened out there, it can’t happen again.”

Zoro takes half a step backwards, feeling lost. “I should just let you drown, then,” he says flatly.

“ _No_ ,” says Luffy, and then, because apparently he likes making things worse, “Where were you?”

Zoro tries to control the flinch, but Luffy sees it.

“Fuck, I don’t know, it’s just-” Zoro stops, and looks away from Luffy. Luffy waits. Zoro grits his teeth, then hisses out a breath.

“All I could see was blood,” Zoro forces himself to admit. “Then I saw you with your _back wide open_ , and I just- fucking- I don’t know what I did. I think it was my fault you slipped and fell.”

Luffy remembers the deck beneath his feet becoming suddenly and unexpectedly slippery. “The devil fruit?” he asks with faint comprehension. _Oh god please no_.

Zoro shrugs helplessly. “It didn’t feel like I could control anything. Just, like, I got hit with a fuckton of really intense sensations but it didn’t _do_ anything other than mess me up.”

“Half a devil fruit?” Luffy asks frowning. This is already pushing the limits of his understanding.

“Something like that,” Zoro mutters. “I guess.”

There’s silence for a good thirty seconds, each man trying to process.

“Luffy,” Zoro says eventually. His voice is strained. “I’m sorry.”

“What the _fuck_ for?” It comes out a lot harsher than Luffy means it to.

“Everything, alright?! I’m sorry for Harrow, for the Princess, for this stupid fucking devil fruit bullshit. I’m sorry for making you fall overboard and for this entire goddamn disaster of a week. Just- let’s fucking pretend it never happened and get back to normal.” Zoro almost sounds like he’s pleading.

Luffy juts his chin out. “The only thing you should be apologising for is for jumping in the sea after Chopper said to stay away.”

Zoro stares at Luffy incredulously. “Are you fucking serious? There was no one else there, and at least I won’t freeze up the moment I hit the ocean! What the hell did you want me to do Luffy? You’re my captain; I will _always_ jump after you.”

“Sometimes I make stupid decisions, Zoro!” _Like throwing the crew into fights we can’t win. Like trying to save Ace. Like leaving you with Harrow._ “You’re supposed to know the difference!”

“No. You,” Zoro jabs a finger at Luffy’s chest, “signed me up for this, so you don’t get to bitch when I do my fucking job and take the hit so you can keep on going.”

 _Oh absolutely fucking not_ , Luffy thinks vehemently. “You do _not_ get to sacrifice yourself for me. I won’t take it from Sanji and I _definitely_ won’t take it from you.”

“You don’t get to make that decision,” Zoro says. _Too late_ , he thinks.

“Like hell I don’t!”

“Did I die?”

“Zoro-”

“ _Did I die?_ ”

“No.”

“Then what’s your problem?”

Luffy bites the inside of his lip. Zoro’s not _getting it_. “What if you had?” he asks. That’s only part of it, but still.

“Then we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“It would have been _my fault_.”

“That is a risk you take, _Captain_ ,” Zoro says, voice hard. “With all of us.”

But it’s bigger than that, Luffy thinks desperately. It goes back further than Luffy’s captaincy, back to when it was just Zoro and Luffy in a tiny, leaky, boat.

“What if you end up with a devil fruit power, a proper one?” Luffy demands.

“I can’t control it anyway, Luffy! As it is I’m going to have to train to stop myself from doing,” Zoro gestures vaguely, “whatever that was again. Seeing as I almost got us _both_ drowned.”

“You’re being deliberately stupid, Zoro. You said, that with a devil fruit, it’s like cheating. And it will be _my fault_ -”

“Yeah?” Zoro interrupts sarcastically. “You telling me that Harrow was secretly working for you all this time?”

“Zoro.”

“Or that you told him to bind me with seastone and force-feed me a devil fruit?”

“I told you to stay with her! And it was _me_ ,” Luffy jabs a finger into his own chest, “that let Harrow get away that first time.”

“Fuck, Luffy.” Zoro exhales loudly. “I don’t blame you for any of that.”

Luffy shrugs. “I know. But it’s still my fault.”

“It’s not like I don’t have free will,” Zoro says. “Forget about whatever happened when we first met. I _choose_ to follow you.”

Luffy’s quiet for a moment.

“You didn’t answer me before,” he says. “What’ll you do if after all of this you end up with a proper devil fruit power?”

“I won’t use it,” Zoro says. _Not to defeat Mihawk, anyway._

Luffy narrows his eyes. _Fucking_ “Liar.”

“Alright, fine, you want me to say it?” Zoro says, abruptly losing control, _you push me I’ll push you_. “I’ll use it, if it helps you make Pirate King. Luffy, I-”

“Shut up.”

“ _I will ruin myself for you_.”

The words suck all the air out of the room. Luffy’s breathing hard.

“Any of us would, Captain,” Zoro says softly. Well, possibly not quite as badly as Zoro would, but that’s only because Zoro has more capacity for it.

God Luffy wishes he could breathe properly. “When we first met, _you_ _said_ , that if I ever got in the way of your dream-”

“So my priorities have shifted. Things changed.”  There’s an infinity between Zoro-then and Zoro-now. But the constant has always been Luffy. “I’m stronger because of you. I’ll _win_ because of you.”

Luffy can’t stop himself from muttering, “You’d better.”

Zoro tilts his head back and laughs, honest-to-god genuine laughter. The tension bleeds out of his shoulders, and Luffy can’t fight the smile coming across his face. And just like that, that weird and unnatural dam they’d built between them is broken, and the warmth of their friendship floods back over the both of them.

And with it comes something different. The open admittance of things that both Zoro and Luffy had known, but not ever said out loud, changes things. When Zoro tilts his head back down, smirking now, and meets Luffy’s eyes, there’s that you-and-me-against-the-world look again. Now, though, Luffy sees something else, something that makes anticipatory butterflies swoop through him, down his throat, curling through his intestines.

 _Imagine,_ Luffy’s mind supplies, _how it was before. You know that feeling of having Zoro next to you in battle, of adrenaline and watching him dance through blood and steel, following the same flow of power and chaos you do. Imagine that feeling, but_ all the time.

 _Single-minded, intense, focused all on you. Imagine taking, this time, what is being_ offered _._

Luffy’s fingers twitch, as if they’re thinking about reaching towards Zoro of their own accord. The light of the aquarium casts a soft blue glow across them both, and Zoro looks like an invitation.

Usopp chooses this moment to open the door and cautiously peek his head around it, his nose leading the way like an exploratory probe.

“Uhm,” he says apologetically. “Sanji says if you don’t come and get lunch he’s going to throw it overboard.”

Luffy manages to control the impulse to fling something at Usopp’s head. Zoro’s rolls his eyes at the empty threat; as if Sanji would waste food. More like: Sanji had wanted Usopp to check on them.

“We’re coming, Usopp,” Zoro says, warmth colouring his tone, and Usopp’s relief is palpable as he nods and withdraws.

Zoro’s body language is loose and happy, and Luffy belatedly realises how badly the past few days of tension had affected Zoro. No wonder Chopper had kept shooting Luffy meaningful looks; they’d meant, _you’re the Captain, do something_.

They leave the aquarium. On his way past, Luffy reaches up and curls his fingers down the nape of Zoro’s neck.

Yeah, Luffy’s definitely going to do something.

 

* * *

 

The next day Chopper walks into his infirmary and stops dead.

Zoro’s there, sitting on the bed, and, apparently, patiently waiting for Chopper.

Zoro’s in his infirmary.

Voluntarily.

“Are you dying?” Chopper asks, alarmed.

“What?” Zoro frowns. “No. I need you to draw some blood.”

“Oh my god, you are dying.”

“Chopper.” Zoro levels a flat, unamused look at the doctor.

“Okay, okay. Uh, why?” Chopper asks, as he begins preparing a syringe, mostly on autopilot.

“I… need to test something.”

Chopper stops what he’s doing and looks at Zoro suspiciously. “Is this to do with the devil fruit?”

Zoro hesitates, then nods once. Chopper purses his mouth unhappily.

“Fine.” He slides the needle into Zoro’s arm, and slowly pulls the plunger out. He and Zoro watch as blood slowly fills the tube of the syringe. Extracting the needle, Chopper decants the blood into a small glass vial.

“But,” Chopper says, “you’re doing whatever it is here so I can intervene if something goes wrong.”

Zoro makes a ‘yeah, yeah’ gesture and holds out his hand for the vial. Chopper puts it into Zoro’s outstretched palm, and then jerks backwards as Zoro clenches his hand closed suddenly, crushing the vial in his fist.

“What are you doing?!” Chopper shrieks.

Zoro doesn’t answer, uncurling his fingers. He stares down as his blood-and-glass covered hand, his pupils dilated so wide there’s only a sliver of iris visible around them. Zoro shudders, blinks, and draws in a shaking breath.

“Okay,” he says, his speech slurred. “Okay, I think I’ve got the hang of it.” Then he stands up and makes to leave, hand still dripping blood onto the floor.

“Oh no you don’t,” Chopper says, and switches to his larger ‘human’ form. He drags Zoro by the arm back to the bed, and makes the man sit.

Chopper turns Zoro’s hand over, checking to make sure that the glass shards hadn’t done serious damage. Wiping away the blood, the doctor notices that the brand mark around Zoro’s wrist is darker, and where rivulets of blood have ran down the arm, the skin around the scar is red and irritated.

“What the hell was that?” Chopper demands.

Zoro’s pupils have returned to normal, and he has the grace to look slightly sheepish, but Chopper isn’t mollified in the least.

“I think that the fruit I ate might have something to do with-” Zoro’s gaze flicks down to the hand that Chopper is inspecting.

“With _what_ , Zoro? With pain? Glass? The seastone scars? Scaring the hell out of your doctor?”

“No, with – uh, sorry, by the way – with blood,” Zoro says.

Chopper narrows his eyes, ignoring the half sincere apology. “Explain.”

Zoro takes a breath to steel himself, then haltingly and as briefly as possible explains his reaction to the Marines’ blood, and then how it had clouded his senses during the fight. And, how in response to Luffy being in danger, Zoro had done _something_ – half of something –

“You controlled the blood around you?” Chopper asks in fascination.

Zoro shakes his head sharply. “There was no _control_ involved. Just, this surge of weird energy and a _push_ ,” Zoro pushes his hands away from his body in an attempt to convey the feeling. “Then Luffy slipped on the deck,” Zoro’s mouth turns down, “and fell into the sea, and now you know the whole story.”

Chopper hums thoughtfully, shrinking down to his usual form. Preoccupied, he starts clearing away the used syringe, bloody rag, and shards of glass. When he’s finished, he turns to Zoro, who’s watching him.

“So you can ‘feel’ blood, almost so much it’s overwhelming, but not control it, in _any_ way?”

Zoro shrugs. “Yeah.”

“So the seastone chains _did_ have an effect on the transformation. And that just now with the blood,” Chopper waves a hoof, “that was you testing this?”

“Yeah.”

“I can’t believe I’m asking this, but why did you need me for it? You have swords,” Chopper says, the implication being _you’d be more than comfortable using them on yourself_ , but that’s not something Chopper really wants to admit to knowing out loud.

“Didn’t want to take the risk,” Zoro mutters. “Since the first time it happened was when I was in combat, so.”

So using swords might trigger a loss of control, Chopper fills in mentally. He sighs. “You said you’d ‘got the hang of it’. That’s not true, is it?”

“It’s true enough,” Zoro says defensively. “It wasn’t nearly so bad this time. I can control my reaction to it, I just need to train.”

This is going to be a problem, Chopper can tell. Zoro is stubborn at the best of times, and worse when he perceives weakness in himself. On top of all of that, this whole ‘loss of control’ thing? Zoro _hates_ not being in control of his own body. It’s Chopper’s job to look after the physical health of the crew, but that is so not easy when just getting Zoro to tell him what’s going on is like pulling teeth.

“You and Luffy deserve each other,” Chopper huffs.

Zoro barks a surprised laugh. “Chopper,” he says smiling, “you don’t have to worry. I’m not a devil fruit user.”

Chopper could argue semantics, because technically Zoro is. He could bristle, because it’s not so bad, being a devil fruit user. He could say that he’s always going to worry.

But Zoro and Luffy have lapsed back into their natural closeness, and Zoro’s dream is still on track, so instead Chopper just says, with a genuine smile, “Congratulations.”

 

* * *

 

It’s been a few days since the aquarium conversation, and Luffy is in a fantastic mood. The sun is shining, the wind is in their favour, Sanji had let him have thirds at breakfast, and, _and_ , earlier that day Zoro had smiled at him – just him – all wide and happy.

Then Brook calls out, “Land ho!”, and well, that’s just the icing on the cake.

Luffy barely waits for the Sunny to dock in the shallows before rocketing out to the beach.

“Don’t get lost,” Nami says, as Luffy flies past her.

“Zoro, come on!” Luffy calls.

Zoro jumps down to shore with almost as much enthusiasm as Luffy.

“That goes double for you!” Nami yells after the swordsman.

“I’d come with you,” Usopp says, “but I don’t want to.”

“If you assholes would wait for five minutes, we need to organise a foraging party,” Sanji says.

“No!” Luffy says. “We’re going exploring. Come _on_ , Zoro.”

Robin leans into Franky and says something Luffy can’t hear. As Zoro and Luffy set off along the shoreline, Franky’s booming laugh follows them.

 

* * *

 

The small island is in a temperate zone, and it’s precise geography is obscured by a dense forest. Neither Zoro nor Luffy feel much inclined to venture inland among the prickly, dry bracken carpeting the forest floor. They walk along the sandy beach, enjoying the nice day and each other’s company.

Well, Zoro walks. Luffy bounds back and forth in a vague zig-zag pattern, occasionally stopping to snatch up an unusual looking shell or beached sea creature and shove it in Zoro’s tolerantly amused face. Once or twice Luffy finds something particularly interesting, and his enthusiasm draws a fond smile from Zoro, his first mate’s eyes going soft. When that happens, pure joy bubbles up in Luffy’s chest, sending carbonated happiness up through his throat, tickling his nose and making him laugh delightedly.

After about half an hour of walking, Luffy gets distracted by a weird-looking crab in a tidal pool and is trying to figure out the best way to get closer to it without getting his fingers pinched, when Zoro interrupts his thought process.

“Is that a ship?” Zoro asks, squinting into the distance.

Before Luffy has time to wonder if they’re back at Sunny _already_ , a yell rings out to their left.

“Oi! Stop!”

A tough-looking pirate emerges from the tree line. The man is easily Zoro’s height and twice his size, wearing an intimidating sneer. He’s twirling a chain strung with over-sized shuriken, and the way he carries it suggests that, unlike many of the clowns Luffy’s met so far, this guy actually knows how to use his chosen weapon.

“What,” Zoro rumbles, wearing his pirate-hunter face. Luffy loves that expression; every time he sees it something _fun_ happens.

The man suddenly sends one end of the spiked chain hurtling in their direction. Luffy and Zoro take one step apart, the chain thumping harmlessly on the sand in between them. The man reels the chain back in.

Luffy feels Zoro tense beside him, and then Luffy sees why. More of the pirate’s crew are popping out from the trees, and moving to surround them – easily twenty enemy pirates. The faux attack from chain-guy – who, Luffy guesses, is probably the captain – had been both a warning and a distraction.

Luffy can tell that this guy isn’t weak, and his crew probably isn’t weak either, considering they made it this far into the Grandline.

 _Won’t be making it any further_ , Luffy thinks, as the adrenaline starts to kick in, his muscles coiling in preparation.

“Where did you come from?” chain-guy demands. “How many of you are there?”

Zoro and Luffy just stare at him, identical expressions of ‘seriously?’ on their faces. Has this guy been living under a rock?

“Answer my questions!”

“Don’t wanna,” Luffy says.

“Then we’ll make you!”

Oh, yeah. Luffy’s face splits into a grin. The combined energy of his devil fruit and his haki starts thrumming through his body. Next to him, Zoro slowly draws one sword out its sheath, and smirks.

Luffy can’t believe his luck. A brand new island to explore, and now a fight! With Zoro! Again!

This may be the best day of Luffy’s life.

Luffy cracks his knuckles. “You good?” Luffy asks, tone deceptively light.

“Yeah,” Zoro drawls, “I’m good.”

“I’ve got chain-guy. You take care of the rest!” Luffy orders.

“Aye-aye, Captain.”

 

* * *

 

Zoro’s been training, these past few days. The sight of his own blood no longer sends strange thrills and aches through him, and he can ignore the throbbing of the brand marks. As for the blood of others, he _thinks_ he has a handle on it. The _pull_ , whatever it is that this foreign devilish energy wants from him, it’s only there when the adrenaline picks up and his body gets ready for the _fight_. So he’s still untested in battle, with this new handicap.

But Zoro has a plan.

Luffy throws himself at chain-guy, whooping, but Zoro takes a second to centre himself. As he draws his swords, Zoro feels fully the curve and swell of Luffy’s spirit behind him.

Luffy lands a hard punch, but one of the chain shuriken snag on his skin and he earns a long gash down his forearm.

First blood is Luffy’s blood.

And that’s where Zoro forces his focus. All others around him, their blood is thin and weak – barely more than water, with no soul, or life, or will. But Zoro can hear the pulsing in Luffy’s veins, and it forms a steady, fast, backing beat, that drowns out the pitiful calls of the other pirates around him.

Zoro could not seek Mihawk’s title if he did not already have a blood hunger, a battle lust. This is that, but with a certain amount of heightened senses. It doesn’t really help him – without it, he would still know _this_ man will try an overhead swing, and _that_ man will attempt to flank him – but it does pull him closer to the primal, essential fight.

It’s no longer just Chopper who can smell blood, and Kitetsu loves it a little too much, and Zoro edges a little further away from humanity, which might be a problem in the future but for now, for now…

It’s alright, because Luffy’s right there alongside him.

In the end, the fight is fun, but nothing to write home about. Of course they win, and Zoro doesn’t lose track of Luffy once, and his senses remain, mostly, in his control. Luffy’s flying high, since he was already in a great mood before he got to punch people, and Zoro’s feeling fantastic because he's just proved to himself that, with a little more training, everything is as it was before.

Well, perhaps not _quite_ as it was before. Zoro may be a little giddy, a little tipsy, blood-drunk, as he and Luffy make their way back along the beach. Luffy’s laughing loud and raucous, Zoro can’t stop snickers and giggles, as they keep bumping into each other, in constant contact. Luffy shoulder-checks Zoro, trips over a stone, and Zoro reaches out and snags Luffy’s wrist to stop him from falling.

There must still be a little danger left over from the battle, because, warm under the pads of his fingers, Zoro can feel Luffy’s blood, flooding strong and true under his skin.

And then Luffy’s kissing him.

 

* * *

 

Luffy’s impulse control is poor at the best of times. Still flushed with victory, and then with Zoro’s hand around his wrist, and that worshipful, slightly wild, look on Zoro’s face – with all of that, who could blame him? Before he knows it, Luffy’s moving forward, and sliding one hand around the back of his first mate’s neck, possessive, intense.

And then he’s kissing Zoro.

It’s close-mouthed, chaste. Little more than a brush of the lips, once, twice. Then Zoro sighs out Luffy’s name, lips parting slightly, and Luffy takes full advantage. He presses closer, deepening the kiss. Zoro’s skin is heated beneath his hands, and he smells like clean sweat, that masculine scent.

They break apart, and Luffy gets distracted kissing along Zoro’s jaw. Zoro’s eyes remain closed. One hand is fisted in Luffy’s vest, and the other is gripping his shoulder. Luffy nips gently at a blossoming bruise on Zoro’s jawline and Zoro’s entire body shudders. His dark eyes open and Luffy gets caught in them, in the way that Zoro looks at him.

This is _definitely_ the best day of Luffy’s life.

Their mouths find each other again. Luffy curls one hand around Zoro’s hip, the other around his bicep. Standing there, on the quiet and deserted beach, with the marks of battle still upon them, their kisses last an indeterminate amount of time.

The tide is coming in. The water laps against Zoro’s boots, and washes over Luffy’s toes. Luffy feels the whisper of the devil fruit’s curse, the pure hatred the sea has for him. In response, he laughs softly.

Because Zoro is before him, beside him, Luffy’s one sure thing – and Luffy fears nothing.

**Author's Note:**

> So this was inspired by [lion-skinned by kurgaya](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5991505) (which is awesome, go read it), with the similarity being in the ‘Zoro eats devil fruit’ concept, except it sort of got twisted around in my brain and, hence. 
> 
> And I know this was hideously self-indulgent but it's fanfiction and that's kind of the definition.


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